


Not a Rescue Romance

by misura



Category: FlashForward
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyguard Romance, Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 18:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15467376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "I've never had someone around who I absolutely, positively knew would die for me. I'm not sure how I feel about it, truth be told." (Demetri gets assigned to protect Lloyd after an assassination attempt)





	Not a Rescue Romance

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _Demetri/Lloyd, Demetri is assigned to be Lloyd's protection when everyone finds out about the experiment_

"Is this really necessary?" Lloyd asks, and Mark gives him this look that speaks volumes - or at least a fair-sized paperback, full of things Mark fears Lloyd might get up to without someone to keep him out of trouble, or more precisely: out of his wife's bedroom.

To his credit (or possibly not), the only thing Mark says, "Someone already tried to kill you once."

"One woman," Lloyd says. "And she was mentally disturbed." He remembers the moment, though, the gut-wrenching fear, that crystal-clear instant of realization that he might die right here, right now, because someone wants him to.

"One person's generally all it takes. Trust me on this," Mark says. "Anyway, I'm not asking."

"Is that how it is, then?" Lloyd isn't sure how he feels about that. Well, he is, but he's not sure how much good it's going to do him to say so out loud.

"I need you alive," Mark says, in a tone that adds that personally, he'd be just as happy with Lloyd dead.

Lloyd would like to not understand that, to be intellectually above all this. To be more evolved than to get all worked up over who sleeps with who; it's just sex, pure physical pleasure, nothing worth killing over. "You mean the FBI needs me alive."

"Yes." Mark's expression might be relieved. "Like it or not, you're a part of this investigation."

"Fine. I can accept that." Lloyd can, too. He's not an idiot: he knows how the real world works. "So who's the lucky agent who gets to put his or her life on the line for me?"

 

In hindsight, it probably could have been worse.

"One rule," Demetri says. "You do what I say, when I say it. No arguments. Simple."

Better, too, of course. "That sounds rather ... dictatorial?" Lloyd tries. He's already had the 'is this really necessary?' argument with Mark, so he's not looking to go another round. Still, there's having a quiet, discreet agent around to make sure he doesn't get murdered, and then there's having someone run his life, more or less. "Do I need to ask permission before I go to the bathroom too?"

"Yes," Demetri says, not smiling. "And that joke won't be as funny once someone's tried to kill you there."

"People really do that?" Lloyd's not sure he meant it as a joke, exactly. More of a sarcastic, rhetorical question.

"It's a good place," Demetri says, like the FBI would know about good places to stage assassinations.

"Well. That certainly takes the romance out of having my very own personal bodyguard."

Demetri gives him a look, like he knows Lloyd intended that as a joke but didn't quite stick the landing - or possibly like he knows all too well what kind of books Lloyd likes to consume by way of a guilty pleasure. "Welcome to the real world."

 

Speeches notwithstanding, it's not quite as dire as Demetri's made it sound. In some ways, it's actually rather nice. It reminds Lloyd of his early wedding days, when he thought that he was going to spend the rest of his life with this one person, this one beautiful smile, this one -

"Earth to Lloyd, do you copy?"

"Sorry." Lloyd supposes that strictly speaking, Demetri may view himself as more of a glorified babysitter than an actual bodyguard. It should be ruining his fantasies, and yet it doesn't.

Quite aside from the horrible real-life consequences such an act would have, Lloyd's pretty damn sure that Demetri would take a bullet for him. In the line of duty, true, but still. It makes everything feel kind of personal, a little more intense than he's used to.

Demetri's with him everywhere, all the time. Lloyd assumes the man sleeps when he sleeps, although he's not sure. Thus far, he's yet to catch Demetri at so much as a yawn, or a moment of being distracted. It's a bit intimidating.

"So how long's this arrangement going to last, anyway?" he asks, in a doomed attempt to give himself a reality check. This is just a job to Demetri, after all. Likely, the man's simply itching to go back to 'real' work, catching dangerous criminals and the like.

"What, tired of me already?" Demetri flashes him a grin. "Sorry, doc. Afraid you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future."

"That concept's become a lot more flexible recently," Lloyd says. He doesn't add that really, the way things are going now, the way he's feeling, it seems next to impossible he's going to end up at Mark's house, with Mark's wife, solving an all-important equation.

Pulling off that last part may still be possible, he hopes. Perhaps if he substitutes Demetri for Olivia, he can get close enough - although that's assuming Olivia's irrelevant to that bit, that it's not going to be something she says or does that will trigger some new insight on his part.

"You want to maybe put your thoughts into regular English, see if I can help?" Demetri asks. "I mean, I'll be honest, I'm feeling a bit useless over here. Watching you science is fun and all, but it doesn't exactly make me feel productive."

"Nothing too challenging, I'm afraid," Lloyd says. "Just ... I've never had someone around who I absolutely, positively knew would die for me. I'm not sure how I feel about it, truth be told."

If Demetri recognizes the lie for what it is, he's too polite to say so. Maybe it's normal. Maybe everyone who gets an FBI protection detail feels this way.

"Hey, my first choice is very much not dying, all right?" Demetri says. "Me dying, that's all the way down, bottom of the list."

"Good. I'd miss you."

Demetri gives him a look. "Thanks. I'd miss being alive."

"Plus, I mean, if they get to you, odds are, next thing, they'd get to me," Lloyd says. "Then we'd both be dead, and who wants that?"

"Presumably, at least a couple of people." Demetri shrugs. "But hey, try not to think about it too much. World's full of crazies, and nobody's managed to kill me yet."

"Statistically, that means the odds of someone succeeding are going up," Lloyd says. It's true, if you assume that every would-be assassin has an equal chance of success. Dodge a bullet once, and you're lucky. Dodge a bullet ten times, and you're beating the odds, and also possibly due for getting shot.

"Great pep talk, man," Demetri says, but he's smiling that half-smile Lloyd's come to grow rather fond of seeing. "They do train us for this sort of thing, you know."

"Nobody can train people for things they don't even know are going to happen yet. That's the whole point of the future. It's unpredictable. Or it used to be, anyway."

Demetri smiles again. "Hey. Dead man walking here, remember? Now, how about you get back to work?"

 

The days kind of blur together after a while - Simon makes a few snide remarks, because he's Simon, and occasionally more observant than people give him credit for.

Lloyd spends more time than he probably should coming up with ideas, scenarios, possibilities.

"You want to maybe grab a cup of coffee?" he asks, one night.

By way of big, dramatic questions, it leaves a bit to be desired. It's simple, though. Efficient. Friends grab coffee together, so it gives both him and Demetri an out as well; if they're not on the same wavelength, they can just chalk the whole thing up to a misunderstanding, no harm, no foul.

As far as gambits go, this one's as low-risk as it gets.

"Wow," Demetri says. "Six weeks of thinking about it, and that's your big move?"

Lloyd shrugs, feeling relieved and nervous at the same time. "Seems like a bad idea to annoy the person responsible for safe-guarding my life."

Demetri considers, then nods. "Fair enough. Your place."

"Great. And just so we're clear, do you want an actual cup of coffee, or, well, not an actual cup of coffee?"

Demetri steps closer, in what Lloyd would consider a bit of an invasion of his personal space - not that he minds, obviously. He minds even less when Demetri cups his face and kisses him.

It might have been more romantic if Demetri'd just saved his life or something, but Lloyd's prepared to not to be too picky here. Besides, he's a scientist. He knows the odds.

"How's that for clarity?" Demetri asks, grinning as he steps back.

Lloyd wonders if he's blushing like an idiot. He rather fears he is. "Yes. Well. That seems quite clear. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, where are your car keys?"


End file.
